Movie Review - The Bourne Ultimatum

First off, a confession: I find Jason Bourne supremely sexy. Even more so when he's kicking someone's ass. So this review not only assumes you've seen the previous films, but also comes with a healthy dose of estrogen. Read at your own risk. :-)

As you're probably aware, by this time in the series, Bourne is wrestling with the motherlode of both guilt and amnesia. He knows he's killed people, and he can recall all their faces, but he can't remember their names. His girlfriend Marie has been killed and he wants revenge, peace, and answers - and the order in which those come is often interchangeable.

The third movie opens with Bourne being pursued in Moscow. Not having watched the previous films recently, I'm not recalling why he was there in the first place or how he got hurt, but he's already wounded when we first light upon him, yet still accomplishing his miraculous and brave escapes. And then this never comes up again during the rest of the movie.

No matter. Bourne gets tangled up with reporter Simon Ross (Paddy Considine) and some old pals at the CIA - Noah, the Deputy Director (David Straitharn - that guy about whom I always say 'what's his name again?') Pamela Landy (Joan Allen) and Nicky Parsons (Julia Stiles). They want to get their hands on him before he can cause bigger trouble than he's already caused in connection with Ross. Ross, who thinks he's smarter than the people he writes about, is trying to out the whole project. And Bourne wants to simultaneously figure out the beginning of the project by tracing Ross's source, and doesn't want to kill any more people than truly necessary. Which of course depends on whether those people are trying to kill him or not.

The movie's plot is essentially unnecessary. By the time we get back to Bourne's beginning, it's really something of a letdown, and we never really know the cause of his initial amnesia. Stiles has a throwaway role - you think for a bit it might be Marie Redux - and is essentially there to be the pretty girl. She's no Franke Potente, though, much as I normally love Julia Stiles. Here I spent a lot of time figuring out what shade lipstick she was wearing and how I might get a tube. She simply doesn't have a lot to do, and the film would have done much better keeping Potente's character, whom she inhabited with such life and vigor. However, would Bourne want his revenge if the love of his life was dead? Guess not. Moving on.

Allen has a little more scenery to chew, although whoever is clothing her character in drab turtlenecks and keeping her from brushing her hair should probably be fired. Allen and Straitharn do get to do verbal battle, which is a nice touch, but it could have been snappier, considering how much of a threat they feel Bourne to be, and how good these two actors are.

Ah well. The action is non-freakin-stop the whole film, which is really why you're going to see it anyway. Daring rooftop chases, cars bouncing here there and everywhere, and dear little Julia trying not to get a bullet in the brain. Bourne kicks more ass in this one than the last one, and I must say, watching that boyscout face kick the crap out of people with such ease is more than a little thrilling.

Which is really why this movie succeeds. Matt Damon would not have been my initial choice in this role (which shows you what I know), but he lends a gravitas to the role by essentially not emoting, and that boy-next-door face is starting to line a little around the mouth and eyes - we get lots of closeups of that handsome face, much to my joy - so he looks wearier and older than he did in the first one - in a way that really works for him. You might even argue he looks a little broader in the shoulder, but maybe that was my wishful thinking. In short, he's made the role absolutely believable and pretty yummy at the same time. A movie for men and women, only for differing reasons.

Damon gives Bourne the cornucopia of women's lust issues: he's gorgeous without being pretty, he can kick the ass of anybody who messes with the women he knows, he's obviously smart, calm and collected, and on top of it he's wounded and vulnerable, and you might even argue gentle if need be. If that doesn't send you into an O-ring blowing frenzy, my dear, you need to check your estrogen levels.

Of course I still missed Clive Owen from the first film, but oh well. You can't have everything.

And this is one movie where I need to mention the soundtrack. John Powell's strings and tempo pieces are so invigorating that I bought the first soundtrack, and I absolutely love what he's written for the action scenes.

Animal Trauma: None, but you may mourn for Julia Stiles' lovely highlights if you like.

Overall: Plot thin, action thick, hero hooooooottttttttt. I give it four roses out of five, the last rose purely for Matt Damon being all swoon-worthy and making me wonder where I can get a Bourne of my own.